The Three Crowns epub (31 page)

“How so?”

William looked at the paper in his hands. “The people are gathering about their house. They are waiting for them to come out. The people of Holland are not easily aroused, Bentinck, but when they believe justice should be done they do it. The de Witte brothers are afraid. They are hinting great promises, Bentinck. If I go to The Hague I shall have this and that. If I go to The Hague … show myself to the people I will calm them, so they think. It’s true, Bentinck. I could go into those streets and disperse the crowds. Are they not calling for Orange?”

“Then you will make haste to go?”

William shook his head slowly.

“Not yet, my friend,” he said. “Not yet.”

The mob had
lashed itself to a frenzy of hatred. Groups of angry people shouted together. “This,” they cried, “is what happens when two men seek to rule us. Who are these de Wittes? They have robbed us of our Prince and they have taken the titles themselves—only they do not use them. They assume all that goes with them though.”

“Hurrah for Orange. Where is our Prince? Our Prince will lead us to victory. He will save Holland. He is William … like that other William. William of Orange. God bless the Prince.”

And the more they shouted for William, the more angry they grew with those men who had robbed him of his position among them. Men felt for daggers at their sides; some carried cudgels. The de Wittes could not remain within the house forever. And if they did it was not impossible to force an entry. But let them come out. Let them see what a crowd of angry people had in store for them.

They waited and grew impatient. But the de Wittes were not cowards. When it became clear that the Prince of Orange had no intention of coming to The Hague, they knew what they would have to do.

John and his younger brother Cornelius understood what was in the other’s mind. They had done what they had done for the sake of Holland; they were two men who had loved their country and believed that she needed to be free of a ruler who was such because his father was before him.

“Are you ready, Cornelius?” asked John.

“I am ready, brother,” was the answer.

Calmly they walked into the street. A shout went up as they were recognized.

“It is. It is!”

“The brothers de Witte!”

“Come, you brave men, what are you waiting for?”

The crowd fell upon them.

William came to
The Hague with high excitement in his heart. This was the dream of a lifetime achieved.

Holland was his to command; and the first thing was to wage war against her enemies. He was Stadtholder now, General of his armies and Admiral of his navy. That which he believed was his by right of his inheritance was returned to him; and all because two men—two good men he would admit, but two mistaken men—had been viciously murdered in the streets of The Hague.

Bentinck said: “This is the turning point.”

“At least,” answered William, “now I shall have a country to rule.”

“It may be said in some quarters that you could have saved the de Wittes.”

“My presence in The Hague might have done that. On the other hand the people hated them. They wanted me, Bentinck. The people love a Prince. They want no old men who have taken their place because of their shrewdness. They want a Prince and I am their Prince. It was a horrible murder and I suppose one should regret it, but to you I will confess that this deed has much relieved me.”

“I trust you will not be so frank with others.”

“Nay, when have I ever been over-frank? When have I talked when silence should be maintained? They called my great-grandfather The Silent. I think mayhap that is another virtue I have inherited from him.”

Later he addressed his people while they shouted themselves hoarse for Orange.

The times were stark, he told them. He had no soft words for them. Weary battles lay ahead of them. They had had false friends but at least now they knew who their enemies were, and they could trust him to lead them.

“I will fight for Holland,” he told them, “and if necessary I shall die in the last dyke.”

The country was wild with joy. They could not fail. William of Orange would lead them to victory; they could put their trust in him as their ancestors had in that other William.

The people of
Holland were not disappointed in their new leader. William showed himself to be a man of single purpose; and that purpose now was to free Holland from her enemies and to keep her free. He was a man who was determined to lead them; now was his opportunity to show the world that inches are not necessary to greatness.

After a few months of battle England was not averse to peace. Both Charles and James had come to understand that the young man who had been led to storm the apartments of the maids of honor with such determination could show the same enthusiasm for more worthy causes. William of Orange had become a man to be respected.

In spite of the peace with England, William was still engaged with his Spanish allies in a war against France, and Charles in England, ally of Louis, sought to make a general peace. Under Orange, Holland was a formidable little country and Louis was tired of that particular war, but clearly could not make this known; therefore Charles would help him to gain what he needed.

Charles’s idea was to offer Orange the Princess Mary as his wife. When Orange had come to England some three years previously he had clearly had such a union in mind. At that time it had not seemed politic. Now Orange was the Dutch leader; he was a Prince with more than a title who had shown himself to be astute, and he was Charles’s own nephew. But none of these was the main reason which prompted the King. Since his marriage James, Duke of York, was becoming more and more unpopular. Wherever he appeared there were continual cries of “No popery.” James was a fool, thought Charles; but he was his brother and for that reason it was necessary to protect the fool from the results of his folly.

Now if James’s daughter married a Protestant the people’s growing resentment would be halted. They would say to themselves, Since he is prepared to give his daughter to Protestant Orange can he be such an ardent Catholic?

James would oppose the match, of course, having set his heart on a French marriage for Mary. A French marriage! A Catholic marriage! When the people hated the French and were determined to have no Catholics on the throne of England.

Charles, leaning toward the Catholic faith did so secretly. Secretly! That was the point. Poor James, he was half idealist, half sensualist; the one was continually getting in the way of the other.

Orange for Mary then! Let it be done!

William laughed aloud
when he received the news that the King of England was desirous of making a match between his niece and his nephew.

He called to his dear friend Bentinck and told him what had happened.

“Marriage with England. My friend, when I was at my uncle’s Court I intimated that such a marriage would be acceptable to me. I saw the Princess Mary. She is comely, but without reticence; she seemed over familiar with the King and her father; and they have brought her up to speak without thinking first of the effect of her words; they have allowed her to excel at dancing and playacting.”

“She could be Queen of England, Highness.”

“There is that in her favor.” He gave that faint twist of the lips which could scarcely be called a smile. “As yet,” he said, “I am not ready for marriage. Nor shall I allow my uncles to think I am waiting on their words to give them back my friendship. Do not forget Bentinck that they made war on us—for I do not forget it.”

He wrote to the King of England: “My fortunes are not in a condition for me to think of taking a wife.”

He was inwardly exultant, guessing what effect those words would have on his uncles.

Charles laughed. “Our little nephew plays the great man. Well, perhaps we must accept the fact that he is half as important as he thinks himself. All in good time. We’ll marry him to Mary yet.”

The Duke of York was furious. The little upstart, to refuse his lovely daughter! To flout England, for that was what he had done since Mary could one day bring him England.

“I hate the fellow,” said James. “I shall never forgive him for insulting my daughter.”

Charles shrugged his shoulders. He displayed no passion but all the same he was determined that the marriage should take place at some future time.

These were good
days for William. The Dutch nation adored him. His solemnity endeared him to them; they would not have wished for a monarch like the King of England. They shouted for the Prince of Orange wherever he went, and were certain that he would lead them to victory.

William lived for Holland; he was full of plans for defeating her enemies; he had determined to bring peace and prosperity to his people; it should be his life’s ambition. He knew that he had been born to rule. He wanted no wife; he wanted no pleasure; he wanted his people to know that another William the Silent had come to lead them.

He was proving himself to be a leader, a brilliant soldier, a man of few words and great solemnity. He was a hero.

Then the disturbing news was circulating throughout the land. Orange was sick of deadly malady.

When the first sign of the sickness had come to him he had not believed it could be; but when his doctors had seen him they withdrew in horror.

Bentinck came to his bedside.

“My friend,” said the Prince, “you should not come near me. You know what ails me?”

“I have been told you have the smallpox.”

“The disease,” said the Prince, “which killed my mother.”

He was exhausted, Bentinck saw; he had taken the disease badly, and his chances of survival would therefore be slight.

Moreover, it was inconceivable that such a man would not have enemies. How easy to prevent his recovery!

Bentinck knelt down by the bed.

The Prince looked at him as though seeing him vaguely through half closed eyes.

“Go away,” he murmured.

“I will never leave you while you need me,” said Bentinck.

William’s brow puckered; he was rapidly becoming too ill to understand.